


Interviews

by Kamil_the_Awesome



Category: Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-07
Updated: 2020-07-07
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:14:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25127575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kamil_the_Awesome/pseuds/Kamil_the_Awesome
Summary: The Gamemakers decided it would be entertaining to switch the interviewing order for the tributes in the 74th Hunger Games.
Relationships: Katniss Everdeen/Peeta Mellark
Comments: 3
Kudos: 64





	Interviews

The broadcast room fell quiet as Peeta’s words settled on the astonished crowd. _‘She came here with me.’_ My eyes were fixated upon the beautiful crimson dress Cinna made for me, shimmering like sparks, and the way my hands grasp the strange fabric. I couldn’t look at him—at Peeta—not after he told all of Panem he was in love with me. Tomorrow, we’d be sent to the Arena, where it was expected we would all kill each other until only one remained. Peeta had thrown everything away and shattered traditional expectations when he made his declaration, one that frightened me, confused me, which awoke something deeply buried within, shoved away to protect myself. I can’t tell if he’s playing the game or being sincere, and that frightened me more than anything.

I peered up at the screen—not at Peeta, definitely not at his sad blue eyes—and was horrified by what I saw. The blush adorning my face looked like the same one I saw on those love struck foolish girls back home—and I was horrified by the fact it had happened to me. What made it worse was the knowledge that I was next up. The Gamemakers had decided having the boys go first for the interviews would be _interesting_ this year and had convinced President Snow and Caesar Flickerman to go along with their ploy. That was what Haymitch had told us following the release of our scores. I wondered whether they were aware this would happen, or if it was only a happy little coincidence.

Sooner than I wished, Peeta’s interview with Caesar Flickerman came to an end. “And for our last tribute, give it up for the Girl on _Fire_ —District Twelve’s Katniss Everdeen!”

Rising to my feet, I descended the stairs as Peeta came up. Our eyes met, grey against blue, and for a moment, I thought his declaration was real. But then he was gone and I was nearly to the stage. The Capitol audience cheered as I walked up and it took a moment to realize that they were the loudest all night for me.

And it was for nothing I had done, but because of Peeta’s words.

Their cheers thundered in my ears as I turned to Caesar. His lips moved, but I didn’t hear the words. It was difficult to hear my own breathing at that moment. With a blink and a breath, my head cleared enough to hear as he asked, “How are you feeling right now, Katniss? I can call you Katniss, yes?”

“Of course, Caesar. I’m just…overwhelmed. Surprised.” The word leapt from my mouth before I could think it through, yet it fit perfectly.

Caesar doesn’t appear surprised, though, by how I reacted. Whatever questions he had planned for me were swept away by Peeta’s performance, or at the very least set aside. “Now,” he began, holding my gaze with seemingly normal blues, “I’m not sure what you were thinking when that young man told us of his feelings for you, but to me it appeared you may very well share them.” There’s a shift from as he leaned forward in a way that was surprisingly familiar for a man more blue than human, regardless of how his eyes appear. “Do you?”

I gulped, my mouth suddenly dry. It would be easy to say no and be honest, but suddenly I remember that Peeta had requested to be trained separately for these interviews. This had to be why he did so. There’s a plan, one that he and Haymitch has worked out, and the same memory that struck me when he was reaped came back in full force. Guilt had chewed at me then, but the horror of our situation had been enough to set it aside. Now, I realized, I had to tell it, regardless of how it could make me look, because it would give us the best chance of getting sponsors—sponsors that could mean life or death for us.

“When we were eleven, he…he saved my life.”

The crowd shifted forward, fixated upon me, drawn in by my words. I spotted Cinna among them, watching closely with a faint smile _. Keep going,_ I could hear him say. He suggested I speak as if he was the one on stage instead of Caesar, and to treat it as though I was talking with a friend. He’s as close to one, here in the Capitol. And so I take in a deep breath and open up to everyone watching.

“My father, like many in District Twelve, was a coal miner. There was a terrible explosion that he, along with thirty others, died in. Mom…she faded away, as if she had died too. They had loved each other so much she defied her own family to marry him. I…I never forgave her for disappearing like she did, after that…and I didn’t apologize before I left Twelve.”

 _The Capitol should eat that up,_ I couldn’t help but think. _For I don’t know if I could ever forgive Mom._

“It felt as if there was only Prim, my sister, and I in our house,” I continued, my gut twisting. I had never told Gale this story, yet here I was telling all of Panem. “We were starving…perhaps only days from death. I gave up what little food we had so she could eat, but soon we had nothing but mint tea. I had tried to go into town and sell or perhaps trade her baby clothing, but nobody would give up even a scrap of food for them.

“I…” I paused, wiping at the faint tears threatening to spill. I couldn’t see it, but I suspect everyone—the crowd, the other tributes, even Caesar—are leaning in, wanting to know more. “It was raining and I couldn’t remember the last time I had eaten. I was leaning against a tree behind the bakery that, well…Peeta’s family owns. There was a glimpse of a pale face in a window and then a few minutes later, loud screaming and a harsh smack from inside. He came stumbling out the back, holding two burnt loaves of bread and with a nasty bruise on his cheek. She—his mother—shouted at him to give the loaves to the pigs. He gave the back door a nervous glance and then threw the loaves to me.

“I ran home without a word, holding them tight to my chest, knowing that I was given a chance at life. My sister went to bed that night with a full stomach for the first time since our father died. The next day, I was so caught up in how I could ever say thanks for saving our lives that when I saw him, I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Instead, I looked down—and saw a dandelion.”

“A dandelion?” Caesar repeated, curious at my second pause. “What happened after that?”

I glance at my hands, interlocked on my lap. We were getting into dangerous territory, and I was afraid I could accidentally expose my poaching. The Gamemakers probably suspected, given my score, but this was before everyone else. “My father taught me about what plants are edible. He used to tell me that if I just found myself, I’d never starve.” I don’t bother to explain the meaning—someone in a recap will for me, hopefully—and pressed on. “Dandelions are edible, though I imagine in the Capitol you’d just call them a weed.” The crowd laughed and I was thankful for it. I’m not personable like Peeta, but I could feel an understanding with them. “That single dandelion I saw reminded me of the fact I had everything I needed to support my family. Prim and I picked them, had a dinner of dandelion salad, and survived. That…that was how Peeta saved my life.

“I don’t think I could ever repay him…” I gulped, and suddenly the words came forth, ones I never though I would speak, yet felt strangely right as the pressure of the night pressed upon me.

“Other than…maybe loving him.”

Before Caesar can ask any follow up questions, the buzzer ending my interview went off. He sighed, a wane smile on his face, and said, “We wish you the best of luck in the Arena, Katniss Everdeen.”

“Thank you,” I said, standing. When I look at the crowd, most have tears in their eyes. Was my story that moving? It took everything I have not to flush redder than my dress as I’m escorted off the stage. A tiny voice, one that sounds awfully like Prim, whispered, _It’s because they think you love Peeta. You said you could love him, after all._

I couldn’t think like that. It…it was all for the audience, for the sponsors. I couldn’t think about love when tomorrow we will be fighting to be the one who goes home. The Games couldn’t be—wouldn’t be him and me versus 22 others.

It’ll be me versus 23, and one of them would be Peeta.

* * *

**Excerpt from _The Treaty of Treason_**

_. . . . ._

_SECTION IV: VICTOR COMPENSATION_

_Each Victor of the Hunger Games will be afforded compensation to celebrate their victory and ensure proper participation from all tributes involved. This compensation includes the following:_

_> Article 1: An allowance of fifty thousand (50,000) Tesceres per month for the remainder of their natural life;_

_> Article 2: The provision of one (1) house in the Victor’s Village [Consult Section I, Article 12 for details] constructed in each of the Twelve Districts;_

_> Article 3: The provision of excess foodstuff and luxury goods to the Victor’s district on the last day of each month until the beginning of the following year’s Hunger Games;_

_> Article 4: The granting of Capitol Citizenship, allowing for them to immigrate to the Capitol, which will also be provided to:_

_> >Subsection a: Immediate blood relatives, defined as biological parents and siblings,_

_> >Subsection b: A spouse taken from their District within three (3) years of being named Victor,_

_> >Subsection c: Any child born to a Victor before the Games. Any child born after the Games shall be granted immediate citizenship upon birth._

_> Article 5: Should a Victor be convicted of Treason against the Capitol or any other High Crime, all compensations listed in Articles 1-4 shall be revoked and any all granted citizenship under Article 4 which immigrate to the Capitol shall be exiled to the District of Origin._

_> Article 6: To be fully eligible for all compensations, new Victors must confess all crimes committed against the Capitol before becoming a Victor. The People of the Capitol may forgive these crimes, but their crimes shall never be forgotten._

* * *

It’s been four days since I won the Hunger Games. I, and my district partner, Peeta Mellark. To win—to survive—we continued the romance seeded and watered by the product of our interviews before the Games. After my interview with Caesar Flickerman, Haymitch and the Effie, along with our stylists, had been excited about my words. Contrary to how I felt and what I thought, I had subtly confessed my own love for Peeta before all of Panem, going as far to say I could very well do so in the Arena itself. I had stared at them blankly when I was told so and numbly replied, “He…he only saved my life. I still owe him for that.” Haymitch had snorted, amused, when Cinna, Portia, and Effie gave each other small, silly smiles. Only Peeta was off put by my words, though we didn’t talk about either of our interviews when we encountered each other upon the roof.

In the Arena, that romance was not my first and immediate concern. Throughout those early days, we were separated. He with the Careers, me alone, then with Rue—it was only after Claudius announced we could both win did I seek him out. Whenever I closed my eyes, I could remember how Rue appeared when I left her.

I found Peeta in the mud, cleverly disguised as he slowly wasted away from a cruel wound inflicted by Cato of District Two. We found solace in a nearby cave, where I put the little I had absorbed from Mother and Prim to use. It was there, in that cave, where our romance blossomed. Or so we portrayed to the Capitol, to everyone watching the Hunger Games.

I risked everything, going to the Feast, getting the medicine he needed to survive. We eventually had to leave our cave—when the Arena for our Games was opened to the Capitol public, it would certainly be the highlight of the tour. Then came Foxface, the mutts, Cato, and our final stand, the last test of our apparent love—the nightlock berries

I still cannot say how I truly feel about Peeta. Haymitch has told me of the fact President Snow is quite displeased with me—I could see it well enough in his dark, serpentine eyes when we met at the conclusion of the Victor Celebration ceremony—but I’m afraid I cannot say where the girl afraid of love stopped and the one who fell in love to survive began. For there’s one fact clear to me: the Hunger Games has utterly changed who I am. I want to deny it, but it’s the truth. And I am most frightened by the fact that I don’t know if I can go on without Peeta Mellark by my side, and in my life.

We stood backstage, listening as Caesar Flickerman’s introduction music play for the audience. Peeta was dressed in a suit that matched my eyes, while I wore a dress that was more fitting for Prim than me. Our hands clasped, though it took everything I have not to intertwine my fingers with his. His hand was large and warm and reminded me of the safety we felt in those moments within that cave, when all I could focus on was his lips and his hands and the hunger I had never felt before. It did nothing to stop the confusion I struggled with, though I doubted Peeta has noticed. It’s clear now—and I feel like a fool for never noticing—that he has always been in love with me. It was never a game for him. Not like it was for me.

“You’re nervous,” Peeta whispered.

I could only nod. I was afraid of what might happen if I tried to put my feelings into words. I have to stick with what Haymitch and I have discussed since coming out of the Arena. My heart ached, knowing everything came so easily for Peeta while I continued to flounder.

“Welcome back onto this stage, the Victors of the 74th Hunger Games!” Caesar’s voice is loud enough, without a microphone, for us to hear. A producer with magenta face tattoos held a tablet before us, as if it would be enough to keep us from stepping onto the stage. The tablet rose as Caesar announced, “The Star-Crossed Lovers of District Twelve—Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark!”

We stepped onto the stage and met the bright lights. A massive crowd of bedazzled Capitolites screamed and applauded when they saw us, growing louder seeing our connected hands. Peeta tightened his grasp upon my hand for a moment, grounding me as I leaned a little closer to him. It was the right move as the audience grew even louder.

Just as there was last night for the Victor Celebration, the Capitol has laid out a small couch for us. Effie called it a ‘loveseat’. Peeta guided me to the spot furthest away from Caesar before sitting down himself. There was a small struggle as he adjusted his prosthetic leg, which had likely gotten a bit stiff while standing around. I had been horrified, seeing that he had lost part of his leg, but it had been the price for survival. I beamed at him, removing my shoes once more, and leaned into him as I did during those three horrid hours as we re-watched our Games. He’s warm and I struggled to not melt into him.

Curiously, he smelled cinnamon and dill.

“When you two were last here, we were all mesmerized and astonished by your declarations,” Caesar began, beaming at us. I had a feeling he was thoroughly excited by our double victory and its story. “But to see how you two grew closer together in the Arena was something else—and something quite special. Can you tell us more about your experiences? How your love blossomed before us all?”

Peeta glanced at me, bringing on a flush that was rather embarrassing. He wanted me to go first, especially since I was the one who changed the most. “I…well, I had tried to not think about Peeta’s declaration after we entered the Arena. At least, that’s how it was until the announcement was made.” I focused on Peeta, smiling fondly. “I was afraid if I allowed myself to openly, truly love him before then, I would lose him.” After all of our time in that cave, it came as easy as lining up a shot. “I suspect I have you to thank for…helping to convince the Gamemakers into making that change.” The words tasted like ash in my mouth, yet they came forth all the same.

“Between when Cato cut me and when you found me,” Peeta began, a hand grasping mine softly, “are…difficult to remember. But everything about you—”

“You remember,” I whispered, smiling. My eyes feel watery, but I can’t worry about them right now. “I remember a lot about you as well, Peeta.” I have to stop and swallow the dryness in my throat. “When I found you, I…I don’t know if I could describe how frightened I was. Worse, I didn’t have my mother or Prim to heal you—I had to do it myself.”

“Your mother must be quite the healer, judging from how you saved my life,” Peeta said, blushing slightly. “I don’t think anyone else could’ve taken better care of me.”

“I can’t stand to be in the house when they bring in an injured miner,” I admitted, lost in our own little world. “But…but I had to do what I needed to save you. Because…because…” Taking in a long, deep breath, I locked my grey eyes with his blue ones and said, “Because I can’t imagine living without you.”

The moment those words left my lips, as the crowd awed and cooed over them, I realized what I’ve been trying to keep secret from myself—I needed to have Peeta Mellark in my life, and if that was the love my parents had, then I was certainly in love with him. He gave me a fond, sappy smile after my declaration and slowly leaned in. Suddenly annoyed by his slow pace, I reached up, grabbed the muted orange tie he wore, and pulled him into a hungry kiss. That burning hunger flared to life in my veins, driving me on. My thoughts slipped away with our kisses as they grew in passion.

We were interrupted by a loud cough and as the hunger and fire faded, I regained my senses enough to realize that I had ended up half in Peeta’s lap, a hand in his curls and the other having rolled his tie around my fist. My cheeks flushed a deep crimson, or so I assumed as I returned to where I had been while Peeta twisted his legs. Haymitch had wanted me to sell the girl deeply in love, and without thinking, I had done so in a manner I hadn’t even began to consider when he spoke of the need earlier. It was mortifying, yet a pressure that I hadn’t realized was upon me lifted.

Caesar leaned towards us, smiling as to comfort us for being caught in public. “I must tell, watching how you two came to love each other in that cave was something truly special. Not even the finest romantic writers and minds in the Capitol could’ve written something as touching as your romance.”

“Because ours is real,” I said. Peeta tensed, just for a moment. “It saved us, in the Arena.”

“That and the lamb stew Haymitch sent us,” Peeta added.

I glanced back at him, smiling. “He only sent it because it was my favorite. If we had your way, we would’ve gotten hot chocolate and fresh rolls.”

Peeta grimaced, a faint pink to his cheeks, as the Capitol audience laughed. Caesar’s smile was large and more genuine that any I had ever seen on his face.

“Now, I think we all want to know about that moment at the end, when you,” Caesar said, eyes on me, as he turned serious, “pulled out those berries. Nearly gave me a heart attack when you two went to eat them. What were you thinking in that moment?”

“I was angry,” were the first words from my lips. The rest, everything I had been feeling in those seconds before the berries had come out of my pocket came along. “Angry that I would lose Peeta after finally getting him. Angry that the one glimmer of hope I had in that Arena was being snuffed out. And afraid, since I knew that if Peeta died in there, so would I.”

“How?” pressed Caesar. I couldn’t look at him, only at Peeta.

“If you had killed yourself, I would’ve followed you,” I told him. His deep blue eyes shimmered with tears that wished to be free. “I love you, Peeta Mellark. I cannot live without you. I…I’m afraid to let you go anywhere I can’t see you. I think I gave a nurse a panic attack, trying to find you after they took us out.” I flushed a deep red as I murmured, “I’m afraid to even sleep without you by my side.”

His large hands surrounded mine as he said, “I will always be with you, Katniss. Never doubt that.”

“Always?” I whispered.

“Always.”

“Now,” Caesar interrupted, drawing us out of our moment, “I think we are ready for you two, our newest Victors, to complete one of the oldest and most important traditions all of our great Victors perform.” He turned to the crowd and they all cried out, screaming as one.

It took a moment to realize they were all saying, “Confess!”

I gulped, glancing at Peeta. I don’t know what he may have in his past, but I’ve committed serious crimes keeping my family alive. Given my history of poaching, I should be executed, not celebrated for what I’ve done.

“I guess I’ll go first,” Peeta said, looking at me. My face must’ve gone pale in fear, worried about who I might hurt. “I’ve had game that was caught outside of the fence surrounding District Twelve.”

“And where did you get your game from?” Caesar asked.

Peeta was opening his mouth to answer, but I couldn’t let him speak. This was my crime. “From me. We traded, game for bread.”

He let out a small hiss as everyone’s attention turned to me. “I learned to hunt from my father, before he died in the mines,” I began, uncertain whether I should focus on Caesar or the nearest camera. In all of the years I had watched the Games, never had a Victor confessed to anything like I was about to admit to. “After…after I remembered what my father had taught me, I began venturing into the woods around District Twelve.

“He had taught me how to hunt—tracking prey, being silent and swift in the woods, even how to shoot with bow and arrow. I used those skills to bring food home for my family…and to trade with others back home.”

The crowd gasped, horrified. I knew the moment those final words slipped from my lips, everything back home would change. The Peacekeepers would be replaced, the fence repaired and electrified, and it would all be my fault. And the people I traded with—

“And you’ve been doing this for five years?” asked Caesar.

I nodded. “I was five the first time I went out beyond the fence, but I didn’t begin hunting alone until then. I…I also gathered herbs, since my mother and sister, Prim, are healers and there’s many we don’t have access to in Twelve. Neither liked that I was getting them from beyond the fence, but it allowed them to help people. Life in Twelve is…hard, and without it life would be worse.”

“And your skill with a bow,” Caesar began, skimming over my words about Twelve, “you developed that before the Games?”

“My father taught me, as had his and his going back to before the Dark Days,” I confessed. “Hunting…archery, it was just part of being an Everdeen—and it kept us alive. And without that, I wouldn’t be here.”

Caesar nodded, turning to the audience. “What do we think of our Victors? Will we forgive them of their crimes?”

It was part of the tradition, I knew, yet the idea of the Capitolites saying _no_ frightened me. I didn’t know what would happen if they did. Peeta’s hand found mine and I grabbed onto that lifeline. We watched them, waiting for their judgment.

“YES!” they bellowed. The ones closest to the stage had shimmering eyes, as if they were on the verge of crying. “You are forgiven, our Victors!”

The hammering of my heart, something I hadn’t realized was there, pounding away, calmed to a slower, steady pace. The tight grip I had on Peeta’s hand slowly loosened, yet I wasn’t going to let it slip away. Not yet.

Not ever.

* * *

As we arrived at the Training Center, Effie informed us that we would have an hour before Caesar Flickerman would arrive to interview us. Between Peeta’s tight grasp on my hand and the clicking of Effie’s heels, it was easier to block out the Capitolites troubling us for a few words or snapping a dozen pictures of us. It also helped to distract me from the pit of dread in my gut that had been building ever since my failure in District Eleven.

When President Snow had visited me the day before the Victory Tour began, I was frightened. I hadn’t been sure why he was suddenly coming to visit, and the reason why was much worse than I could’ve imagined. To learn that entire districts had become rebellious after my _‘stunt with the berries’_ , as he put it, was worrisome.

To see that poor, old man in Eleven murdered before the entire crowd for recognizing my grief and pain over failing Rue was horrifying. It was a reminder from the Capitol that we belong to them. Peeta had been despondent to learn about the President’s visit, and we had been lock step the rest of our trip.

Our prep teams used the time available to touch up the work done that morning. There wouldn’t be time for Cinna and Portia to sweep in and straighten our clothes out, but I trusted enough that we had yet to be disheveled. Though I wouldn’t mind seeing—

I flushed a bright red, suddenly remembering a warm autumn morning, a couple months after we returned from the Capitol. It had taken time for me to agree to it, but Peeta finally talked me into taking him into my woods. Nothing in Twelve had changed following my confession of crimes, though I feared something would happen once we returned from the Victory Tour. I knew Gale wouldn’t be out there, since he had started in the mines shortly after our victory. Sundays had become awkward and tense, though he wouldn’t tell me why.

Before that day, there was one place that was my own. It had once been my dad and I’s, but then he died in the mines. I took him to that place, to the lake and the small hut besides it. Dad had told me it predated the Dark Days and like he did, I had taken the time to keep in from falling over. Just as we Everdeens are hunters, we have also preserved this hut.

Part of me, the romantic that Prim would squeal if she knew existed, thinks it belonged to us before the Capitol and the Districts. There’s no evidence but the care we have taken to preserve it. And for what I have planned, it was the right place. Peeta’s expression upon seeing it alone made my heart quicken and desire pool low within.

“It’s beautiful,” he murmured, awestruck.

“You’re the only person I’ve ever shown it to,” I replied. He turned to me and drew me into one of our many long, hungry kisses. We went much further that day, and even spent that night there, huddled together, naked under the blankets we brought.

Warm, soft breath on my ear drew me away from the memory. “You’re thinking of our cabin.”

I turned to Peeta, smiling fondly. “I wish we could stay there…forever.”

“I would like that,” he softly replied, smiling in that way which made his blue eyes shimmer and awoke a ravenous hunger within her. “Perhaps once winter is over and spring…”

“That sounds nice,” I interrupted.

Effie’s high-pitched voice cut through our soft conversation. “Caesar’s team just informed me they will be early of all things. I suggest you two straighten up before they arrive. I’ve heard from a, well, a friend of mine that they can be ready to film within five.”

We didn’t know what Effie meant by ‘five’, but when the whirlwind that was Caesar’s filming team blew into our apartment in the tower and had everything ready before he arrived seven minutes later, it was much clearer. He looked very much as he had during our Games, with deep blue clothes and light blue makeup. In six months, when the Games began anew, he would appear differently. We quickly sat down and the person behind the camera counted down with their fingers.

“Hello Panem!” Caesar began, beaming towards the camera. Smiles instantly formed on both my face and Peeta’s. We’ve spent enough time before them to know what to do. “Welcome to a very special interview with our beloved Victors from District Twelve, Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark!” He turned to us, and we turned away from the camera as well. “So, you have gotten the opportunity to visit the other districts as part of your Victory Tour. Tell us, which district did you enjoy the most?”

“I enjoyed the woods of District Seven,” I began, “with their trees that reached up so high. Though, I nearly challenged Johanna Mason to a climbing contest. She’s quite…intense.”

“That she is,” Caesar replied, grinning.

“District Four,” Peeta added, chuckling. The way his chest vibrated against my back was soothing and arousing at once. “I have a painting that I will finish soon of Katniss at the beach during the sunset. We…uh, snuck away to spend a moment alone there.”

I beamed at him, remembering the moment he mentioned. Effie had been quite cross when we snuck away from the dinner in our honor. We both wanted to just sit on the beach and relax. While we had seen it earlier that day, we had been surrounded by children from District Four and had a smoldering, amused Finnick Odair watching our every move.

Caesar beamed at us, pleased by our small revelations. He slowly turned serious, saying, “Those are both beautiful districts. I imagine One, Two, and Eleven were…difficult visits.”

“Yes, they were,” Peeta replied.

Caesar turned to me. “Katniss, we all heard those lovely, thoughtful words you said to the people of District Eleven. What were you thinking as you said them?”

I can tell he’s giving me a way to correct my mistake, to make them benefit the Capitol instead of help people rebel against them. “If it weren’t for Rue and Thresh, neither of us would’ve made it out of the Arena. I was grateful for how they helped us, and I wanted to make sure the people they knew and loved knew as well.” I can feel tears threatening to streak down my cheeks. “I only wanted them to know that their sacrifice would be honored—by all of Panem.”

“I think they know as well,” Caesar confirmed. “What of the other districts I spoke of?”

I grimaced for a brief moment. I was involved with the deaths of both tributes from One and Two. Peeta, feeling my anxiety, spoke. “Two was interesting. During our tour of the Peacekeeper Academy, we met Clove’s younger sister.” He glanced at me, drawing a surprising flush. “It seemed she rather admired Katniss here, for she had taken to styling her hair in a similar braid.”

“Really?” Caesar asked. “Did anything else happen when you met her?”

“She asked if we had a daughter, to name her for Clove,” I whispered, not trusting myself to speak loud enough for the cameras.

“Did she now. What of Cato’s family, along with those from One?”

I ignored Peeta’s response, remembering our encounter with Galla. She was the same age as Prim, her dark hair bound in a braid just like mine. She had been one of twelve kids, working on their archery skills. The Headmaster of the Academy requested that I show my skills and compete with them. Galla was the last one that I faced, and the most talented as well. She had done as Peeta said, along with thanking me for the _honor_ I had shown Cato by giving him a quick and merciful death.

The tightening of Peeta’s hand on my thigh, even if for a moment, brushed away memories of District Two. I blinked, frowning.

“Caesar asked us what’s next in our love story. I thought you should answer.”

I flushed. The Capitol was deeply invested in us as a couple, and they certainly wanted things from us. Things that, if I had the choice, I wouldn’t give to them. Fortunately, I reflected, we had already claimed a few things for ourselves.

“Well,” I began, meeting Caesar’s gaze, “you introduced me incorrectly.”

He frowned, though there was a twinkling to his gaze that suggested he had a suspicion as to the bombshell I was about to drop. “How ever so?”

Peeta’s grasp around me tightened as I replied, “I’m Katniss _Mellark_ , now. We married in secret, right before the Victory Tour began. Only our families…and Haymitch were there.” I beamed at Caesar’s shock, adding, “I’m quite close with the mayor’s daughter. She should be turning in the marriage license some time today. It’ll be official once we re home.”

“Then tell us,” Caesar said, regaining his certainty. “What does a District Twelve wedding look like? We in the Capitol will be miserable, knowing that we missed the opportunity to host yours.”

“Well,” Peeta began, “we didn’t go to the Justice Building to sign the license ourselves. That’s normally the first thing.”

“You would be dressed in your father’s best suit,” I added, looking at Peeta. “While I would be in my mother’s white wedding dress.”

Caesar frowned. “Is it normal in Twelve to wear your parent’s wedding clothes?”

“Yes,” I replied, feeling Peeta nod through his body. “There’s many traditions in Twelve that would seem…quaint to the Capitol. Prim will wear that dress as well, along with any daughters we might have.” It took everything I had not to glanced down or let my hands rest over my belly. We both knew that we didn’t mean to have a child so quickly, but it had happened and I couldn’t find it within myself to abort our child. If there was anything that terrified me more than President Snow’s threat right before we departed for the Tour, it was the thought of the life within me facing the Arena.

“And when can we expect a child?” asked Caesar, a small grin beginning to form on his ageless face. We had cut out a lot of what a Twelve wedding was like, but a child would be of greater interest to the Capitol. “I can tell you now, I do not think there will ever be a child more celebrated than the first child you two have.” There’s a joy in his eyes, though whether it was because he truly wanted them to be happy with children or if he was looking forward to when our child was reaped and thrust into the Games, I’m not sure.

“Well,” Peeta began, his hand coming down to cover mine. They drifted to hover over my belly, and Caesar’s gaze trailed along with them. “I think Haymitch and I will be covering the mentoring business for the upcoming Games. Katniss will have some _one_ more important to look after.”

Caesar’s eyes widened, glancing between my belly and our faces, and then he began laughing. “This is why I love you two! Here I was, hoping for a proposal, and it turns out you’re already married and having a child!” He took a moment to center himself before asking me, “Now, Katniss, how did you feel when you first found out you were pregnant?”

“Afraid,” I immediately blurted. I cringed, and quickly added, “We never expected to have a child so suddenly. My mother was…disappointed when she found out, though Prim’s excited about becoming an aunt. My cousin, Posy, I think I more excited about the idea of a baby than the baby coming. The rest of the Hawthornes were happy about it, though Gale’s always been overprotective and he ended up threatening Peeta.”

Peeta laughed, though there was a sad hollowness to the sound. “He didn’t do that. Only asked me a dozen times just how much I loved you, Katniss, before saying if I ever broke your heart, he’d find an abandoned mine shaft to leave me in.”

“That sounds like a threat, Peeta. Though I won’t apologize for leaving you to tell Haymitch alone.”

“He shouted at me for a few hours, drinking about as many bottles as he did so.” Peeta grimaced. “Though I’d rather sit through that again than Effie’s lecture.”

I slapped his arm. “Effie didn’t know we were already married. She was happy afterwards, though sad we didn’t invite her.”

“We were married when we told her, not when you conceived,” he replied.

“When _we_ conceived,” I replied. “You were quite involved.” I smirked. “Among other things.”

“My family is mostly happy,” Peeta quickly added, drawing me tighter against his chest. I felt his hardness begin to press against me. _Fuck._ “Father and my middle brother, Rye, congratulated us when we told them. Bran, who’ll inherit the bakery, shared a long look with his wife. I think they’re jealous of us.”

I turned to face him. “So she doesn’t hate me? I mean, I already knew how your mother feels about me.”

Peeta shook his head, amused. “Syl and Bran have been trying for a while, Kat. Can’t blame them for being upset we’re having a child from our first time.”

I flushed at the nickname. Peeta had never used that whenever we were in front of the cameras or somewhere the Capitol could hear us. He realized a moment after I did, his cheeks flushing a rosy pink that made my stomach flutter and made me chew my bottom lip.

We turned back to Caesar, who was beaming at us. “That was a touching moment. You must be like that all the time.”

“Mostly,” Peeta admitted. “We’ve had some arguments—”

“I’m still mad about the cheese buns,” I pouted childishly, turning away with crossed arms. Caesar laughed and it took everything I had to not laugh. Certainly when the people of the Capitol saw this, they would eat it up. Peeta and I had discussed what would help make our relationship seem true, that we loved each other, and I convinced him that there had to be small imperfections. Not even the most romantic couples were free of arguments and disagreements.

“Cheese buns?” asked Caesar, leaning in.

“Well, Peeta makes the most delicious cheese buns,” I began, glancing at him. He was smiling fondly and I held back from kissing him. “They’re better than the lamb stew with plums here in the Capitol.”

Caesar gaped. He turned to Peeta. “You must tell me the recipe, then. I eat that stew by the bucketful and I can tell you everyone will be eating it by tonight.”

“It’s a family recipe, Caesar. Though if you ever make your way out to District Twelve, I will make you a batch myself.”

Caesar nodded, leaning back to cross his legs. “If your child arrives before Reaping Day, I believe a trip out to Twelve would be worth my time.”

“We would be pleased to have you,” Peeta replied.

The two men grinned, laughing, though a strange pit in my stomach formed as I wondered if even this would convince Snow of how true our love was. The fact he doubted it when he came to Twelve made me uncertain if we could convince him, let alone the districts.

Then again, I fear we were only used to quell any rebellion that may be growing in the districts, and I couldn’t help but wish for one, even if by becoming Victors we were granted status important enough to keep our children safe from the Arena.


End file.
